The Red Frontier: Wrath of the Vanquished

Chapter 33: Preparation

In the lower bay of Ambassador Vidal's ship, the Orbital Commandos prepared themselves. Marcus took his M-28 plasma SMG and slotted it into place on the left side of his belt. He carried multiple weapons on his person; the M-28, a VT54 plasma pistol, and a large combat knife that was slotted into a scabbard on his chest.

No grenades, though. General Idriah had been very specific on that matter. Collateral damage from explosives around diplomats working within the civilian sector of a city held by another nation... that was something they simply could not afford.

At best, it'd damage humanity's reputation with the locals. At worse, it would spark a war.

Looking around, Marcus saw all the other Commandos doing the same, their faces disappearing behind their helmets. However, Marcus would not be wearing his for now. Since Ambassador Vidal had demanded that Major Winter open the delegation, the Horusan was to keep his helmet off until further notice.

Marcus sighed. He knew that his status amongst the Xan-Klar would help hold the alien's interest, but he had no taste for the title they gave him. And frankly, while he understood why the reptile-like aliens gave him such a title... he didn't feel he deserved it.

Turning, the SOSC officer looked down at the small metal bench beside him. His helmet was there, along with a microchip the size of a small domino. Reaching down with his right hand, Marcus carefully picked the tiny technological device up.

If he damaged this, he'd be totally useless throughout the entire meeting.

With his left hand, Marcus tapped a part of his armour's chestplate. As he did that, a piece slid outwards, revealing a small insert port the same size as the microchip. Still being careful, he pushed the chip in, his thumb pushing it into place with a soft 'click'.

Immediately, he felt something radiate through his head – a burst of gentle buzzing as though a fly's wings were fluttering beneath his skull. Twitching and tensing up as it happened, Marcus was nonetheless glad to feel it, as it showed the automatic translator built into his neural implant had registered the chip and the data it contained.

Turning around, he saw the rest of the 5th Company, helmeted and geared up, their powered assault armour buffed up and impeccably cleaned so that each suit gleamed in the lights of the hangar. Many of them were also doing what he had just done, slotting the microchips into place in their armour and shuddering as their translators updated, downloading the entirety of the Xan-Klar language.

Marcus would normally have smiled to see his troops looking so presentable in their polished armour, but right now, all he could think about was the meeting that lay just a few minutes in his future.

He then glanced up to see Jennifer approaching. Her face was also visible, her helmet gripped in her right hand. Marcus and Jenn were the only ones like this. There was every chance that the Xan-Klar would want to meet his second-in-command.

"All present and correct, Major." Jennifer told him as she came close, speaking in a very casual tone of voice.

Marcus nodded to her. "Good. Tell Ferro and Leon to gather their sections and be ready to fly to the city rooftops on my mark."

His reply went over one of the details of the plan he had briefed the company with a few moments ago. While Marcus was here as a bargaining chip, his men weren't. And as far as he was concerned, his main duty here was still to help protect the delegation.

And, even pressed into opening a diplomatic meeting, he wouldn't let that slip.

Looking down at his hands for a moment, Major Winter met the gaze of his combat helm, sighing as he did so. However, as he saw his own eyes reflected in the dull grey lenses of the helmet, he felt something press upon his left shoulder. Turning, he saw that it was Jennifer's hand.

"You'll do great." His second-in-command told him, her blue eyes burning like the sapphire solar flares that danced across the surface of a bright blue star. "You always do."

Marcus returned her gaze with a grim expression. He hadn't the heart to tell her how scared he really was. Scared to face the Xan-Klar once again. The last time he had met them, back in Kenostros, as their ships descended from the sky like a storm of falling swords – that was where his life changed forever.

Where he went from being a normal soldier to a celebrity thrust into the limelight by circumstance. A limelight he joined the army to get away from.

"I can't make promises here, Jenn," he replied. "I'm a soldier, not a politician."

Jennifer let go of his cheek. "I know. But the Xan-Klar respect that... respect you."

Marcus then retorted with "Do you remember why, though?" he asked. "Do you remember who gave me the name of Kormac Telgaiur?"

When he asked that, Jennifer nodded grimly. After all, she was right there with him when it happened.

When they met him.

Marcus felt the ship shudder, the breath inside his lungs shoved upwards with some force. The Horusan grimaced slightly as he realised that they were descending, the time of the delegation drawing ever closer. Looking around, a scowl escaped his throat when he saw that the hangar had no windows. He had no idea if they were a few seconds or a several minutes away from landing.

However, as he turned, he saw Ambassador Vidal and Haraq the Sirthon enter the hangar, stumbling slightly amidst the ship's descending movements. Vidal still appeared very confident in what was about to happen, no fear or worry at all in his eyes. Meanwhile, his alien aide stood loyally by his side, ready to attend to him. A bag was hung over the Sirthon's shoulder by a single strap, made of black fabric and gilded with golden thread.

A deep concern suddenly arose with Marcus as he saw the Sirthon in the hangar. Quickly nodding to Jennifer and thanking her for the pep talk, he then moved over towards Vidal, his armour's heavy boots clunking on the metal floor of the hangar.

"Ambassador..." he said as he approached.

Vidal turned to Marcus and cracked a smile. "Ah, Major Winter," the Earther replied. "Are you ready?"

Marcus nodded. "As I'll ever be, but I do have a concern."

Vidal's eyebrows rose. "Oh?" he asked.

Marcus nodded, then turned his eyes to Haraq. "Is it really the best idea to have a Sirthon present at this meeting?" he asked. "With all due to respect, Haraq I have a feeling that bringing a Sirthon before a Xan-Klar diplomat might be considered an insult."

There was a brief, almost shocked, silence before Vidal replied.

"You have a fair point, Major, but your concern is misplaced. The Xan-Klar do not seem so vicious as to take insult at the mere presence of a free Sirthon." He spoke in an optimistic, but calm, tone of voice. "Besides, Haraq is bearing the gift that I have had specially prepare for the Empire as a show of friendship between our nation and theirs." He tapped the knuckle of his index finger upon the bag hanging from the Sirthon's shoulder.

Marcus nodded. "I understand." He then turned to Haraq. "Apologies, Haraq. I meant no offense."

The Sirthon looked up at Marcus with his four golden eyes, his mandibles curving into a strange sort of smile. He was shorter than Marcus, maybe around 5 foot 9 inches, and his frame was sleight and slender.

"None taken, Major Winter. I understand your concerns, but just as they may be, I'll be staying to aid Ambassador Vidal during this overture." His natural Sirthon hiss echoed slightly over the translation of his words into the language of humanity. "Besides, this is my homeworld. I wish to walk upon it once again, and I hope today to see that start of a long road that will return Sirtha Prime to the Sirthon people."

His words tugged at Marcus' heartstrings. He too knew the pain of losing the world that you were born upon. Smiling a little, he nodded at Haraq, and Haraq nodded to him in kind.

And, just at that moment, a voice came over the ship's P.A. "All passengers, brace for landing. ETA, one minute."